


Breathe With Me Tonight

by FettsOnTop (GTFF)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Found Family, Grief/Mourning, Hopeful Ending, Leia Organa Lives, Mild Smut, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:28:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22093330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GTFF/pseuds/FettsOnTop
Summary: As the Resistance celebrates the fall of the First Order, Leia is surprised to see an old enemy among her new allies. She never thought she would be happy to see Boba Fett.
Relationships: Boba Fett/Leia Organa
Comments: 16
Kudos: 149





	Breathe With Me Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> There are references in this fic to The Burden of Hope, another ST fic of mine. It might give this story more context but it is not required reading.

More ships are landing every second, more allies from the Outer Rim joining in the celebration. Leia smiles and welcomes them. She doesn’t ask what took them so long, or why they didn’t answer her call before. She’s been in this fight long enough to take help when it comes to her. To believe in second chances. 

She catches a glimpse of helmets when the crowd parts around them. No one makes an entrance quite like Mandalorians. Their squadrons were tireless, circling the sector until every last First Order ship was grounded.

Most of the Mando rebels she fought with in the Galactic Civil War have long retired. But one separates and moves towards her and she does recognize him. 

She just wasn’t expecting to see him here. 

“Boba Fett."

“General.” He removes his helmet as he approaches. It’s still a little strange, knowing what he looks like beneath it. 

“What happened to ‘I’m not a Mandalorian?’”

“If I’m going to fight with anyone, It’s going to be people who know what they’re doing.” He's standing in front of her now. Sizing her up. “You don’t look as happy as I expected you to.”

Leia inhales around the weight in her lungs. The grief that makes it hard to draw a breath. “My son is dead.”

“My condolences,” he says, just as he’d said when she told him about Han. Short. Sincere. No inflection of how he thinks she should feel about it. 

“I _am_ happy to see you,” she says with equal sincerity. 

He looks away. Busies himself tucking his helmet beneath his arm. “I never believed I was a real Mandalorian because I didn’t grow up in the clans like my dad did. Turns out that’s not much of a distinction these days.” His sharp dark eyes return to her face. “You want to get a drink?”

She wants nothing more. “Come with me.”

They find a quiet corner in the command center, two metal cups and a bottle of Mantellian bourbon. “Officer’s stash,” she says as she pours for them. He takes a sip and the cup pauses at his mouth. “That’s good.”

“A present from Poe. It's always been a favorite of mine."

“He did well up there. You should be proud.”

“I am. I’m proud of all of them.” She raises her cup in a toast. “Hope lives on. For today.”

“For today,” he echoes. “Maybe tomorrow too.”

“Don’t tell me joining the Resistance made you an optimist.”

This time he doesn’t look away. “Seeing you makes me feel optimistic.”

A laugh breaks from her, soft and rough. “Why?”

“You’re still here.”

Now it’s her turn to look away. “You don’t know how many times I wanted to take you up on your offer since Crait. There were so many times I almost comm’d you.”

“I would have answered.”

“I know. It was too tempting.” A tug in the Force pulls her attention away from the man in front of her. “Rey's back.” She watches as the young woman leaves the embrace of her friends and turns toward her. The weight returns. Not because of Rey, but because of what has to be acknowledged with her return. 

_No one’s ever really gone_.

Rey stops a few feet from the table, her eyes on the man in armor. Another orphan with a complicated past. 

“Rey,” Leia says. “This is Boba Fett. An old friend.”

“An old enemy,” he corrects her. “But currently a friend.”

“Boba Fett?” Rey repeats. “Should I know that name?”

“No.” He pushes back from the table and nods to Leia. “Thanks for the drink.”

“Don’t go.” She catches his hand, intercepting it before he can retrieve his helmet. Rey takes note of the gesture immediately.

“I’ll come back later,” she says, taking a step back. She sounds relieved. Eventually they’ll have to talk about what happened. Eventually they’ll have to talk about _him_.

_I'm so sorry, Leia._

_You saved him. I'm only sorry he couldn't save himself._

“There will be time for sorrows later,” she tells the young Jedi. “Go celebrate. Have fun. Do something irresponsible.”

A smile touches her lips and her expressive eyes cut over to Fett. “Okay. You too.”

He doesn’t speak until Rey has melted back into the crowd and they’re still holding hands. “Am I something irresponsible?” 

“You could be.” She slides her hand up, letting his gloved fingers slip under the edge of her sleeve.

Strong fingers tighten at her wrist and he almost smiles. “Where’s your room?”

“Up there.” Without letting go of his hand she leads him up to the dais above the communication room where her bed is. “I...didn’t want to miss anything.”

The bounty hunter takes a look around, his dark brows raised.

“There’s a curtain.” Leia gestures with her free hand. “Right there.”

The smile is back, this time with exasperated amusement. “All right,” he says, reaching for it. 

Her pulse picks up as he draws the curtain past her and then his arm falls to rest around her waist. He steps in and kisses her and she leans into warm mouth and his armored body. 

He disarms by the light of the comm servers, removing his armor piece by piece. She runs her hands over his shoulders and down the old scars on his arms as he joins her on the bed. He’s a long way from the Sarlacc pit, but some wounds never heal. 

The last time they did this they were strangers, careful and fumbling. This time they’re both armed with a bit more knowledge, and still matched in competitive nature. “Where do you think you’re going?” He queries when she presses a kiss into his stomach. 

“Down,” she responds playfully, nipping at his skin. 

“Like hell you are.” He rolls her onto her back and kisses her again. “You’re the general here."

“Oh.” She allows it because his mouth is warm on her breast, her stomach and then her inner thigh. “Do you have a rank with the Mandalorians?”

“Yes.”

“What is it?”

“Doesn’t matter.” His response is muffled between her thighs, and Leia finds herself willing to save the questions for another time. Her eyes shut and her hands clutch at the sheets. The night air is cold on her skin but she’s alive and her blood is running hot in her veins. 

She doesn’t hear Poe’s voice until it’s much closer than it should be. Fett reaches for the blaster he left beside her bed and she puts a hand on his arm. “General?” Poe bellows into the empty command center, and then softer. “Leia?”

“The curtain’s closed,” Finn says. “She went to bed.”

“Tonight? There’s no way.” 

Fett grabs the blanket, pulling it up over them both, his body covering hers. “Answer him before he barges in here,” he advises in a low voice. 

“He wouldn’t-” Leia starts to say, but is quickly proven wrong by the curtain drawing back. 

“Leia? Are you-” Poe stops short, Finn just behind him. 

“You were saying?” Fett asks, one eyebrow raised. 

“Poe,” Leia sighs. “What is it?”

“You know what? You’re busy.” Poe takes a step backwards into Finn, who is projecting “I told you so” with every molecule of his being. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you.”

Finn is the one who remembers the curtain. “Sorry,” he whispers before pulling it back into place. 

Leia looks at Fett. “Don’t say it.”

He starts to move back down. “As you wish, General.” 

In the morning he’s still there, warm and solid beside her. Leia puts her cheek on his chest and lets herself dose to the rhythm on his chest rising and falling. She’s always been able to feel the pull of destiny and right now it’s here. With Boba Fett. 

It doesn’t change what happened, or what she has to face, but his arm wraps around her and there’s something profoundly reassuring about the simple embrace. “Mm.” He presses a kiss into her hair. “Almost enough to make a man forget he’s on a karking stage.”

A laugh bubbles up in her belly as she presses closer. “I’ll be sure to commandeer a more private room next time.”

Beyond the curtain she can hear the first voices of the morning. The people who didn’t drink quite so much, or maybe the species who weren’t as affected. “I see why you couldn’t leave them,” Fett says, and Leia lifts her head, curious. “You have family here,” he responds. 

She lays her head back down and shuts her eyes. She does have family here. She has a future. 

In the world beyond the curtain, one voice rises above the others. “-seen the _Mand’alor_?”

“ _Fierfek_.” The man beside her stirs. “I’ve got to go.”

Leia reluctantly moves to let him sit up. “What’s a _Mand’alor_? Wait. It it a title? Is _that_ your rank?”

“Something like that.”

She props up her head on her arm as he pulls on his clothing. “What does it mean?”

“It’s a kind of chieftain.”

“Chieftain of what?”

“Of Mandalore. It’s a long story.”

“What?” She pulls herself up into a sitting position. “The whole system?”

“It’s a symbolic role. Doesn’t really do anything.” His armor snaps into the place with the ease born out of years of practice. Leia watches him a moment before giving voice to her suspicion. 

“Are you the one who brought them?” 

“Just the Mandalorians.” He shrugs it off as if it’s nothing. As if the Mandalorians joining the fight wouldn’t draw the attention of half the systems in the Outer Rim. “I only have the authority to do one thing, and that’s declare war. Seemed a shame not to use it.” He picks up his helmet and returns to the side of the bed.

“I guess we have some catching up to do.” Leia lays her hand on his cheek as he bends to kiss her. His gloved hand cups the back of her head, lingering even after the kiss is over. His eyes meet hers. Warm with affection. Bright with hope. “See you later?”

Her fingers trail down to his chin. There’s an old scar there, just barely visible. Some scars never heal, but they do fade. She drops her chin and mimics his low voice. “As you wish.”

"General," he responds, smirking down at her. 

" _Mand'alor_."


End file.
